The weekly Floridian. [volume] (Tallahassee, Fla.) 1867-19??, 1887-10-13
| THRILLING ADVENTURR.

"What was the closest place you were
ever in, in your frontier experience p
was the conundrum fred by Chronicle
reporter at Captain Jack Crawford, "The
Poet Scout" The scout ran his fingers
through his long, black hair, reflected
few moments and replied:
"Well, Ill tell you, but you musn's
give it away 10 print. It occurred about
year ago, when Geronimo was on the
war path with his murderous Apaohes. I
was out deer hunting near . range of
mountains west of my home, and about
noon unsaddled my horse on . mesa, or
piece of high table land, and after picket
ipg the animal ont in the grass sat down
to eat some cold lunch from my saddle
pocket. After finishing the lunch con-
cluded to let the horse Craze for awhile
and leisurely strolled out on q long arm
of the mesa, the sides of which were very
precipitous-a sort of perpendicular wall
extending for fully 500 feet to the plain
below.
81 stood there gazing from the giddy
height for several minutes, and then
looked up. Imagine the uneasy feeling
which crept along my spine when saw
row of at least thirty painted savages
between me and my horse. There was.
utterly unable to defend my myself, my
rifle and pistols back with my saddle, q
great precipice on three sides of me, and
that band of Indians in front. To Jump
over the cliff would be certain death to
rush upon the Indians unarmed and sim
gle-handed as certain in result, and if I
remained where stood it would be only
a matter of few moments before they
would advance and kill me.
never was worse scared in my life.
My blood seemed to freeze in nv veins.
and my long hair stood up like a ships
masts. To me it seemed there was abso-
lutely no escape from sure and terrible
death. l observed that the Indians were
holding discussion among themselves,
and soon saw them drawing lots. l at
once OWNED their purpose. They had
discovered that was entirely unarmed,
and were drawing lots to see which one
should advance and despatch me with .
knife. The lot fell to a stalwart warrior
with hideous painted face, and with a
long knife in his hand he advanced to-
ward me.
If ever man made good time in reel
ing off prayer l did it just then.
think must have beaten the record by
several points. thought / knew that I
must die, but just when l was about to
give up in despair a cold calmness came
over me, and resolved that the fend
should not murder me without q strup-
gle. When he got near me I sprang
upon him with the terocity of tiger, and
we were soon engaged in q desperate
hand-to-hand struggle. The savage band
stood quietly enjoying the sport, for they
knew had no weapon. During the strug-
gle observed to my horror that we were
nearing the edge of the cliff, and almost
before could realize it the savage grasped
me by my long hair, bent me backward,
and over we went, down to certain death
on the rocks below"
"And you fell on top of the Indian, and
escaped p
"No; the Indian fell on top of me,
with fingers still locked in my hair, and
over and over we rolled, clear across the
room"
"The room2''
eyes, the bedroom. You see, it was
an ugly dream, and in my desperation
grabbed by wife, and she retaliated by
entwinning her fingers in my hair. In
our desperate struggle we rolled out of
bed, and after we awoke my wife held ON
with her deathlike grip until had ex-
planned. Then we both laughed until the
echoes stirred up the whole Rio Grande
valley, forgave each other, and went back
to bed. That was the most desperate
fight in which l ever took hand, but I
have been in far more dangerous ones"
-N LOufs Chronicle